


tainted

by dogbuns



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Divergence - A Tale of Two Stans, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, another one of those fics where nobody gets sucked into the portal, some insanity profanity violence blood n general fordangst stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogbuns/pseuds/dogbuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan gets preoccupied after receiving Ford's postcard to come to Gravity Falls, and ends up coming a little later than both of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tainted

**Author's Note:**

> based on this: http://soupery.tumblr.com/post/148500217189/hec-k
> 
> in which the stans are less patient and less okay

Stan bit his lip as he stood in front of the shambling house before him. He'd barely escaped from a rough patch earlier that day- some goons he'd gotten on the bad side of had caught up to him as he'd departed for Oregon, and he ended up getting sidetracked for a few weeks or so trying to lose them. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Now all his pocket change was gone from extra expenses on gasoline to get here, and he barely had half a potato chip bag for breakfast. Oh well. Maybe Ford could spare him some lunch. After all, it was the least he could do after abandoning Stan for 10 years.

"It's just Ford," he muttered to himself, trying to keep his composure. "He's... He's family. He won't bite." Truth be told, he was still shaken up by the incident earlier, but he'd already had his fair share of near-death encounters, so this one didn't shake him up nearly as much as they used to. Besides, finally seeing Ford would make up for it, right?

His heart raced as he lifted his fist to knock on the door. One deep breath. And then a knock.

No answer.

He tilted his head, wondering for a half second if Ford wasn't even home. He was pretty late, after all.

Another knock.

Still no answer.

Stan's mind was swimming, nervous energy taking the best of him. This was a mistake, Ford wouldn't want to see him, he should just go and-

A third knock. 

He could hear the sound of objects being knocked over deep inside the house, slowly making its way towards the door. Stan was about to say something when in the blink of an eye, the door was flung open and he was staring face to face with a crossbow.

"WHO'S THERE!?"a panicked voice shouted from the doorway. "YOU'VE COME FOR ME, HAVEN'T YOU!? Y-YOU CAN'T GET ME, CIPHER! I WON'T LET YOU C-COME BACK, I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL ALL-"

"Ford!" Stan exclaimed, wide eyed. He slowly stepped backwards with his arms thrown up in the air. "Easy... Easy. It's just me. It's Stan, your twin bro..." his voice trailed off. Great. So much for He won't Bite. Stan bit his tongue and cursed himself. This was a mistake, he should've just trusted his gut and hightailed it out of there when he had the chance. Now he was faced with his own twin, pointing a crossbow in his face and yelling gibberish about killing people.

Ford didn't lower the crossbow, and instead tilted his head. It took him a while to process what was in front of him. Stan said nothing and slowly inched backwards, trying not to make any sudden moves that might startle Ford. He'd dealt with these kinds of lunatics before. He'd gotten out of rough patches in lots of similar situations. In all those situations, however, he'd always felt free to sock the guy in the face and make a run for it. This time, he couldn't find the guts to punch Ford in his face, not when things were happening so fast and he was so confused. Or that he could get an arrow through the skull.

"WHO ARE YOU!?" Ford shouted, taking a step closer. "HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES!?" 

"Yeesh Sixer, calm down! I'm not here to steal shit!"

Ford cocked his head to one side and stared. Stan had never felt such an icy gaze before in his life. It might've only been a few seconds, but it felt like Ford was staring at him forever. Then, finally, he fumbled with his coat jacket with one hand, trying to keep the crossbow pointed up with the other. Ford pulled out a tiny flashlight and practically leapt towards Stan, nearly knocking them both over and skewering him with the arrow.

"Holy shit!" Stan squirmed as Ford held his shoulder tight and tried to shine the flashlight in his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing!?" Stan struggled and tried to break away, breathing heavily. He didn't dare make any sudden moves, as Ford was still half holding the crossbow as he held Stan's shoulder, the arrow dangerously near his face.

"You're.... You're real. You're here."

"Uh, nice observation there, Poindexter."

"You're... Not Bill. You're S-Stan."

"Bingo. Now if you could please toss that stupid crossbow aside, maybe we could just... Calmly talk this through."

Ford nervously put the crossbow down by the door, then proceeded to grip his coat tightly, using it as an anchor. His knees trembled as he slowly walked inside, making a small gesture for Stan to follow. Stan hesitated for a bit, wondering how much more of this insanity he could take. There were too many questions he needed the answers to right now, though, so he just slowly followed Ford inside the shack, quietly closing the door behind him.

"S-Stan. I need to know something," Ford said, almost whispering. After his adrenaline died down, talking seemed as difficult as walking did for him. 

"Uh, sure bro, anything."

"C-Can I trust you?"

"Excuse me?"

Ford shook his head as he shakily pushed the buttons to the elevator door. "I d-don't know who..." his voice trailed off. "Please just- just answer the question."

"You know you can, Ford. Always. I've always got your back, remember?"

Ford nodded, his fingers trembling as he pulled his coat tighter around him. "G-Good. Okay." Stan was almost afraid to say anything, worried that the tiniest thing might set him off again. What started as confused anger was now painful nervousness. What the hell had Ford been doing these past 10 years?

* * *

 

The elevator doors shuddered open, and Ford led them into a dimly lit lab. Stan winced at the condition of the place. Everything seemed to be in shambles. Broken class and papers with cryptic writings were strewn about all over the floor. The lights flickered, and the machines in the room sputtered and sparked. They were badly dented, as if someone had attacked them wildly with a baseball bat. He didn't want to think about what the dark stains on the walls could be.

He looked over to Ford then. It was only now that he properly took a look at what condition his brother was in. Ford's clothes were all disheveled, as if he hadn't bothered to sleep or change in days. Dark blood splotches littered about his coat and shirt. His hair was all tangled up with small patches, as if he'd been tearing it out. Stan winced at the sight of his face. Ford's eyes were bloodshot, with deep, black circles under them. His lips quivered and his shoulders shook more as they ventured deeper into the lab. Stan was about to ask if he was okay, but the question died on his tongue.

Ford pulled out a ragged book from atop of one of the beaten up machines. He shoved it into Stan's hands. "H-Here. I need you to do me a favor."

"Uh, what-"

"Please," Ford raised his voice. "I... He's watching me. The eyes.. They're all watching me. Their voices... Taunting, playing games, seeping into my mind..."

"Ford, I don't-"

"You're the only who I can trust, Stan. You... You have to..."

Stan had enough. "Ford, for fucks sake,  _please_ tell me what's going on!" he snapped. Ford jumped slightly at the volume of his voice, then swallowed.

"I fucked up, Stan. I fucked up, I fucked up..."

"Yeah," Stan muttered to himself. "No kidding." 

"S-Stan," Ford said, his eyes darting around the room. "Remember h-how we said... When we were older, we'd get on a b-boat and sail around the world?"

Stan's heart leapt at that. It was a pleasant surprise that he hadn't anticipated. Is this why Ford had called him to help? To help with whatever mental state he was in right now, to be together again? A small smile curled on his lips. If that was the case, then he'd be ready to agree to anything-

"T-Take this stupid book and get on a boat! Sail as far away from me as possible!"

"What!?"

"Please Stan, I-"

Anger bubbled in Stan's chest. "All these years of being apart, you  _clearly_ not being okay right now," Stan snarled, "And you don't want me anywhere  _near_ you!?"

"Stan, you d-don't know what I'm dealing with!"

"Well, you clearly don't know what I've been dealing with after you  _kicked me out on the streets,_ either!"

"Stan, please-"

"You ever been to prison in three different states, Stanford? You ever had to chew your way outta a car trunk? Go for days starving cause you barely got any change to make a phonecall to your damn brother who won't even pick up!?"

Ford stayed silent then, his brows furrowed, his fists defensively curling themselves around his jacket tighter. Stan took a deep breath to collect himself. Ford didn't seem to be in the right mindset to pick a bone with right now. He needed to calm him down, get his panic to subside before confronting him about this.

"Look, Ford," Stan ran his hand through his hair. "Obviously, we're both having it real rough right now. So let's take it easy, okay? Take your stupid book back, and-"

"NO!" Ford snarled, violently shoving it back towards Stan. "F-For fucks sake, Stan, just do this o-one thing for me!"

"Ford, there isn't any time to-"

"It'll be the only w-worthwhile thing you've done in your life!" he snapped. "So just-"

Stan tossed the book at his face then. He wasn't hearing any of this. Not this "worthless" bullshit again. He'd had enough from his Pa, he couldn't stand to hear it from his own twin. It took all his self control to keep himself from socking Ford right then and there. "Shut up! You don't get to say that! Not after you fucking left me to rot on the streets!"

"Just take the fucking book, Stan!"

Stan snatched it up from the floor and glared at Ford. "Fine! Clearly, you don't want my help with whatever this bullshit is," He pulled out a lighter from his pocket. "So let me just finish off your stupid job right here and now!" He flicked open the lighter.

"NO!!" Ford yelled, tackling Stan to the ground. Stan was frozen for a moment, in complete shock. He didn't think Ford still had the strength to do that.

"I... I know why you're here now," Ford muttered, tucking the journal back into his coat pocket. "You're B-Bill, right? This is a fucking trick."

Stan gave him a confused look and picked himself off of the ground. "Geez, Ford, what the fuck are you-"

"You came back... You're back to hurt me again, to use me again," Ford held his head in his hands. "No... No, no, no, no..." His eyes grew wide as he backed up towards a wall. Stan was taken aback from his sudden change in attitude. What was he going about now?

"Ford?" Stan raised his hands in the air again, taking small steps towards his twin. His anger completely subsided then and faded into twisted panic. He hadn't realized how far Ford's sanity seems to have slipped.

"You're not.. I'm n-not gonna let you use me again. You're not going to h-hurt me again..."

"Ford, calm down buddy, you gotta..."

"I-I see you everywhere now, burned into the back of my mind, you know... Don't think I've forgotten what your eyes are l-like..." Ford stuttered in a harsh tone. "You c-can't fool me now, Cipher." He reached around the machine next to him and pulled out a large baseball bat. It was badly battered up. Stan guessed it was from smashing the machines.

"Ford, wh-what're ya doin, bro..?"

"You're n-not gonna hurt me anymore, Bill. I'm n-not gonna let you!" He leapt towards Stan. Stan yelped and jumped to the side, letting Ford tumble against the ground.

"Shit, shit, shit, Ford what're you doing!?"

"SHUT UP, CIPHER!" he yelled and charged at Stan again, swinging the bat wildly, narrowly missing Stan's head.

"Fuck! Ford, it's me, Stan!"

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY HIS NAME!" He took another weak charge at Stan, but this time Stan caught him in the arm before he could take another swing. Ford growled and tackled him again, shoving them into the next room.

"Ford, you gotta snap out of it! Whatever's happening, you- AARGH!" Stan let out an inhuman scream as Ford kicked him into a burning sigil on the side of a machine. He hissed and grabbed Ford by the ankle, knocking him to the ground.

"H-How does it feel, Bill? Not so fun b-being the one burned, isn't it!?" Ford gave a menacing laugh that turned Stan's blood cold. "ISN'T IT!?"

Stan groaned, his hands making their way to the discarded bat on the floor. Ford was hysterical. He had to subdue him somehow before things got worse.

"Y-You can't h-hurt me or anyone anymore," Ford laughed, pulling out a gun from a nearby machine top. "I s-said I'd kill you all, all your illusions, your tricks, I'll see through them all, you won't win, not anym-more...."

He fiddled with the trigger, his hands shaking so wildly that he couldn't even hold it right. Stan took this small intervention to pick himself up, his hands shaking on his knees, breathing heavily. Ford was out of his mind right now. 

"So just leave me ALONE!" Ford finally managed to point the gun at Stan's head. Luckily he had enough experience with guns, because Stan managed to duck under his arm and swing the baseball bat at Ford's head in one swift move. The scientist crumpled to the ground in a heap.

* * *

The first thing he noticed were lights. Blinding, dizzying lights above him. He reeled at the sight. It had been a while since he'd been in a room this bright. Where was he, anyway?

Stanford shot upright in bed, only to groan and slowly lay himself back down. His head was throbbing. It was only then that he noticed an ice pack was placed under his head. He held it there and whimpered slightly.

"Oh, you're awake!" Stan said. Ford turned his head to see him sitting in a chair beside him, gorging himself on a plate stacked with sandwiches. "I hope you don't mind, I helped myself to your fridge. Everythin' was about to go bad, anyway."

Ford noticed then that they were in his bedroom. It had been a while since he'd even stepped inside. "Stanley, wh-what..."

Stan put down his sandwich, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, sorry Poindexter. I did what I had to do. You were screaming something about a Bill and pointing guns at my head," He shook his head. "Sorry for, uh, knockin' you out there."

Ford shot back upright, the memories flooding back to him. Stan must've let him sleep in for a while, because his thoughts were more stationed now, more collected. Thankfully he hadn't encountered Bill in the mindscape as he'd been avoiding. It wad a dreamless sleep.

He fidgeted. "B-Bill..."

"For the last time, Sixer, whoever that is, it ain't me, alright?" Stan scooted his chair closer to the bed. "You need to take a look in my eyes again or something?"

Ford sat up straight, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. He took one look at Stan and buried his face in his hands. "Nnnmngggh," was all he managed to groan. How could he have been so stupid? Now the journal was still here, Bill's still a threat, the portal's still going and he pointed a gun at his own twin. He started rocking back and forth as a wave of anxiety swept over him.

To his surprise, Stan leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him. Ford trembled in his embrace, choking out sobs as Stan rubbed circles in his back. 

"Please, Ford, whatever this is, just... Just talk to me about it, okay?"

Ford only gave a muffled sob in reply. He dug his hands into the back of Stan's shirt, holding on tight as if his life depended on it. He winced as he noticed the mark burned onto his twins back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry..."

"Shh, it's okay."

"I f-fucked up, Stanley, I hurt you..." His shoulders shook as he sobbed further.

"It's okay. Calm down."

"I d-doomed the world, Stan, h-he used me and I fell for it and I..."

"Shh. It's over now, okay? Whatever that... thing you've got.... is, it's over, and it's okay. It's just you and me now."

"It's n-not okay... It's not o-over... It never e-ends..."

Stan had half a mind to ask him what "it" was, but he decided to save it for later.

"It's okay. I'm here now, okay? You don't have to do this alone." He patted down Ford's hair in attempt to soothe him. "Wherever we go, we go together, remember?"

Ford nodded, burying his face into Stan's shoulder. His mind was still racing and his world still felt like it was crumbling around him. But for a small moment, there, sobbing quietly in Stan's arms, realizing there was one person he might finally be able to trust, it felt like everything would be okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> heck dude!!!


End file.
